Page 39 of Venomous Games

Stepping out of the bathroom, I grab the first shirt I can find and then return to find her in the same spot. Drying her with the towel, I pick her up and take her to the bed before I slip the shirt over her head and lay her back down. She hardly makes a sound, but her eyes flutter open and lock on me for a moment.

Fuck, what am I doing?

TWENTY-ONE

MAVEN

My neck hurts. That’s the first thing that comes to my mind. Followed by, it’s so warm.

Moving, I realize it’s because I’m in bed. I don’t remember going to bed. Pulling the blanket down, I find I’m also wearing a shirt that’s not mine. My head really hurts, and I need to go back to sleep. It’s dark apart from the small light near the bathroom, but that’s okay, I’m sure my eyes don’t want to see the brightness anyway.

Climbing from the bed, I go to the bathroom to relieve myself, then wash my face before going back to the bed. I can just barely make out Boston lying on his stomach, the blanket covering him. Looking around, I contemplate sleeping on the couch, but the bed looks enticingly comfortable.

How did I not notice him before? Did he dress me? Is that why I’m wearing his shirt?

My gaze wanders back to him. The blanket is only pulled up to his waist, and his back is visible in the dim light. He’s facing me, but his eyes are shut, and his hands are up above his head, which gives me a view of how muscular his arms are. He clearly works out, that much is evident. I take in the expanse of his tanned skin. When I reach his face again, his eyes are open and locked on me.

“You’re an asshole, you know that, right?” I say as I climb into bed. He doesn’t respond, and I roll over to give him my back, and even with the alcohol still in my system, I can feel his stare on me.

It takes me a good hour before I finally drift off, and the only thing that consumes my head is him.

The door shuts, and I open my eyes to find Boston walking in, fully dressed and holding two coffees in his hands.

He walks over to the bed and holds a cup out to me as he says, “We need to leave. Get dressed.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“It’s afternoon, and it’s not good. I got no sleep because you fucking snore so loudly.”

I sit up, take the offered drink, and bring it to my lips, tasting it. “How do you know what coffee I like?” I ask, then add, “And I don’t snore.”

I totally do. Carrie hated sharing a room with me because I’ve always snored.

“Get dressed,” he repeats before he picks up the remote, turns on the television, and sits at the end of the mattress.

He watches some shit as I crawl out of bed and stand in the middle of the mess of scattered clothes on the floor from yesterday. That mess makes me smile. That is, until I catch sight of something on the nightstand that wasn’t there before. It’s a small red box. Picking it up, I slowly open it. What I find inside has me almost dropping it.

Swinging around, I find him still watching the television. “What is this?” I ask.

He turns and looks at me, briefly glancing at the rings in my hand.

“Your engagement and wedding band.”

“This is Cartier,” I whisper, my voice laced with awe.

“And?” he questions.

“When did you get them?” I ask, trying to hide my shock and guilt about my sister not being here. Getting married is a big thing, and even if this isn’t real, I wish she were here.

“This morning, while you were snoring.” His response has my stomach clenching and my pulse kicking up.

“What if they don’t fit?” I ask because these are very expensive considering where they came from, the size of the main stone, and the number of additional stones in the bands.

“I took your ring off you while you were sleeping and gave that to them for size reference.” I look down at my hand and see that my ring is missing. He pulls it out of his pocket and holds it out to me. I snatch it from his palm and slide it back onto my finger. Just before he lowers his hand, I see his ring. It’s gold in color. Simple but beautiful.

Removing the two rings from the box, I slip them onto my left ring finger.

“Do they fit?” he asks.